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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24377785">Long Season</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nothing_is_Real/pseuds/Nothing_is_Real'>Nothing_is_Real</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Pink Floyd</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Sad and Sweet, Short</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:15:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>259</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24377785</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nothing_is_Real/pseuds/Nothing_is_Real</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A walk in the woods...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>David Gilmour/Roger Waters</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Long Season</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Everything was quiet. Quiet save for the trickling of water in a nearby creek. There was no wind, and a bit overcast in the sky. Light came in from between the leaves and twigs, decorating the ground in bright splashes. </p>
<p>“It’s nice here, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>David stood leaned over the railings, watching the water flow endlessly in streams below. “Yeah. June’s a great time of year.”</p>
<p>“Careful, mate. You’re about to fall over.”</p>
<p>He chuckled, his laughter jingling like a set of wind chimes. Roger watched as his friend—his lover—turned around to face him, and soon he found a pair of hands on his cheeks.</p>
<p>“I wish we could stay here. Like this. Forever.”</p>
<p>Roger smiled, and leaned in to kiss him. Gentle and sweet. It felt good, to finally be alone together, to be away from the din of the rest of the world. </p>
<p>Time slowed down ever so slightly. Everything just became clouds of green around them. Like a dream, static but still changing.</p>
<p>“We should get moving. There’s probably more to see down there.”</p>
<p>He agreed. And down the bridge they went, footsteps crisp on fallen branches, the echoes of droplets in a nearby cave. The entire universe seemed to be in their hands. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Many years later, when Roger returned to the location alone, the bridge and forest and the stream were no longer there, replaced instead by a highway and towering buildings. The season’s over.</p>
<p>For so vast a universe and so empty a consciousness—not even love was able to fill them.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yeah honestly I don't know what I was thinking.</p>
<p>Wrote this when I was listening to LONG SEASON by Fishmans.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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